Page 184 of Cruel Tides

Lightning bolts cut through the sky, filling the air with electric energy that drowned out Kai’s shrill pleas. “Breathing—remember your breathing!” His hands flew to Leander’s shoulders, anchoring him to the sand. “You need to calm down!”

Kai hadn’t hesitated before charging after Leander. He’d followed him to the edge of the ocean, grabbing hold of him before he could plunge headfirst into the violent tides.

And what had I done?

I’d stood here as though I were an outsider looking in. Even as the wind picked up and the waves grew more violent, threatening my home, the island I loved, and this life I’d built for myself, I’d done nothing to build or improve on the brotherly bond I knew we’d one day depend on daily.

I was about to lose everything I’d worked for, but no loss could compare to the grief of losing her. She’d been right there with me, in my grasp, and I’d failed to protect her. Inside me was an agony so crushing that I was certain my soul could never recover.

Leander let out a roar that opened up the sky, his emotions too far gone to listen to reason. His soul was as battered and torn as my own, and even without reaching out to feel what he was feeling, his emotions crashed into me in violent waves.

She left me.

His thoughts slipped into my mind like shards of glass, unbidden. I felt the pain of his greatest fear surfacing, as if it had been my own.

I don’t want to be alone.

Then, as if something in him had cracked, the very air around us stilled, and Leander dropped to his knees, letting out one final roar.

Kai caught him, and Leander’s head dangled, listless, as the sand fell from the air.

“She… left,” he whispered, his eyes growing distant as the clouds dispersed and gravity stabilized the waves. “She told me she would always come back.”

“Leander, look at us,” Kai threw back, his voice firm. Although Leander looked up, first at me and then at Kai, his normally bright eyes seemed to have dulled into an emotionless void.

“Bro, breathe with me,” Kai urged. “In and out… Good. A few more.”

Leander’s chest shuddered violently with each labored breath.

“We’ll get her back,” Kai promised, trying to hide his own emotions. “Right, Barren? We’ll do whatever it takes.”

Kai’s eyes darted anxiously between the clearing sky above and the stilling sand below. “She didn’t leave you on purpose,” he added, although I could sense his own panic rising. “You know she wouldn’t. Remember the note? Laverne and the clams? She said she’d come back.”

Then his arms shook around Leander as his anger resurfaced. “This… this is that dark spawn’s doing.”

It was true that the cecaelia had her, but Kai was overlooking one thing: Claira had run to them willingly.

The meaning behind the drawings on the note she’d left for us became clearer—the hearts representing the cecaelia, creatures with four hearts, and the sea lion indicating that she was going to a place only accessible by Laverne.

“Alhey,” I muttered, because a terrible realization hit me.I’dbeen the reason she’d left us in the first place.

Claira knew the truth—and, without meaning to, I’d pushed her away with my thoughtless words. It was a misunderstanding I might never get the chance to undo.

“No, I—I need time to figure out how to tell them.”

Even now, I could hear the tremble in her voice. Despite Kai’s belief that the cecaelia’s magic was a trick, Claira’s emotions had sounded too raw to me to be anything but genuine.

Why had I ever mentioned my arm or brought up the Indian Ocean’s superstitions?

Claira and I had shared a special moment together when I’d taken her down to the gates of Malkeevo. I’d felt bonded to her then, closer than I had ever felt to another—a feat I’d never thought possible, considering how carefully I had kept myself from tapping into her thoughts and emotions.

So, when she’d looked at my arm, a place I was more than self-conscious about, I wondered if, for the first time, perhaps another would be willing to share the pain this haunting memory held for me.

I’d thought maybe if my mate knew the story and accepted me as I was, the scars wouldn’t be as painful.

Now, I might never get the chance to tell her I didn’t care what she was, who else she loved, or where she’d come from.

But I knew with certainty that I couldn’t bear to be without her. It was too late for that, our bond too strong, and our souls far too tethered.

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